


In this life,

by Felixtheseungcheoltrash



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Future Fic, M/M, Non AU, Non-Linear Narrative, Old Age, Polyamory, major character deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:36:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felixtheseungcheoltrash/pseuds/Felixtheseungcheoltrash
Summary: If one looks back on their life hard enough, from the very first memory they can remember to the very last thing that is still fresh on their mind, they should find the point where it all started. Like a drop of ink splatting onto a thin paper and spreading in hundreds of different directions, one of those directions has surely led to where they are now.Jeonghan thinks that his drop of ink had chosen to fall on the day he was at that temple, listening to those ridiculous words about his predestined end.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, I've started a new fic :) This is a non AU, future fic of SEVENTEEN so please check out the guide below before reading: 
> 
> Step 1: Make sure you read the tags and warnings before getting yourself into this (I don't even know why I got myself into this either but here we are :))  
> Step 2: Repeat after me: "Fictions are just fictions" (3 times would be best)  
> Step 3: Enjoy and yell at me whenever you feel like it
> 
> That's it :)) 
> 
> Proof-read by the lovely Rinnenotsubasa

**57 0 7**

“Hey kid, do you want to know about your future?”

Snapping his head to where the voice came from, Jeonghan found an old man, probably in his late sixties, sitting under a banyan tree. The man dressed in a worn out Chinese shirt and a pair of pants that had as many wrinkled as his tanned skin did.

Jeonghan stared at the colorful fabric tied around that man’s head and his ridiculously long goatee, then looked down on the dirty spread canvas in front of him, on which there were some weird cards and bamboo sticks that Jeonghan couldn’t figure out what they could be used for.

“Well?” The old man urged, waving a long stick with a bunch of strings falling down from the top.

 _He looks like a weirdo_. Jeonghan – 10 years old at that time – thought so. He was accompanying his parents to a temple on this mountain, but then decided to sneak out from the main hall since it was too crowded and he didn’t understand any of rituals they were doing anyways.

“I don’t have any money.” Jeonghan said, voice reluctant, yet his legs couldn’t help but bring him forward. He once heard his classmates talking about those people who can do stuffs to see others’ future, it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t curious.

“That’s okay. Because you’re a cute kid, I won’t take you money.” The old man put on a smile that showed his crooked teeth, beckoning Jeonghan to come closer. “Give me your left hand.”

Jeonghan took his left hand out of his jeans pocket, five tiny fingers stretching out, palms facing upwards. The old man squinted his eyes and leaned ahead. As he was examining the lines on Jeonghan’s flesh, the amused smirk on his aged face slowly disappeared.

Jeonghan’s patience was horrible when he was a kid. He shuffled his feet and shook his hand as he pressed, “Are you done? My arm is tired.”

“Patient, young one.” The old man looked up at him, a smile had already come back on his lips. He took another moment before gestured that Jeonghan could take his hand back.

“As I thought,” the man rubbed his grey streaked goatee as he started talking under Jeonghan’s expectant gaze, “you’re indeed interesting.”

Jeonghan tilted his head to a side, waiting.

“You will be famous, pretty boy. You will make it big and will be very rich. Maybe I should take your money after all.”

Just as Jeonghan’s eyes lightened up at the old man's word, the last comment made him take a few steps back and muscles tense up like he was ready to run anytime. He repeated himself from earlier, “I really don’t have any money.”

The man laughed at his reaction, “I’m joking. Come back here, I’m not done.”

Jeonghan crossed his arms in front of his chest, but still did as told. After all, nothing could beat the curiosity of a child. “What else can you see?”

“I can see that you are a good kid, and your social connections won’t be bad. You are easily liked by people, and your will have a group of ones that are fiercely loyal to you and care for you till the day you die.”

“Those are all good things, right?” Jeonghan asked, and then beamed when the fortune teller nodded. 

“Yes, yes. You’re very lucky in fame and fortune, kid. That’s really something.” 

The old man grabbed Jeonghan’s left wrist to see his palm again, and Jeonghan let him, wanting to hear more of the nice things about his future. 

But this time around, the man clicked his tongue and his expression turned serious. “It’s true that one can’t have everything in life. If only your fate in love were so blessed as your fortune”. 

He used one finger to trace back and forth at some lines of Jeonghan’s palm, like he was trying to confirm. In the end, he just shook his head and sighed. When he looked up again, there was pity in his eyes that Jeonghan at that age wasn’t able to catch.

“Young boy, people like you are really hard to get romantically intimate with others. Although you still have your chance in love, if there’s no one for you before you turn forty, then you will live the rest of your life in loneliness.”

Jeonghan’s reaction to those words was dull. He was too young to understand what was so scary about that. Yet, there was a strange feeling curling in his guts, urging him to run for real this time.

So he did.

As Jeonghan ran away from the weird fortune teller and back to find his parents among the crowd, he noticed that everyone had some thin white strings tied around their torso, connected them to one another like one massive spider web.

He looked down on his body. None of the white strings were touching him. Nothing bound him to anyone.

The ground under his feet suddenly turned black.

And Jeonghan fell into the endless void.

  
  


_If one looks back on their life hard enough, from the very first memory they can remember to the very last thing that is still fresh on their mind, they should find the point where it all started. Like a drop of ink splatting onto a thin paper and spreading in hundreds of different directions, one of those directions has surely led to where they are now._

_Jeonghan thinks that his drop of ink had chosen to fall on the day he was at that temple, listening to those ridiculous words about his predestined end._


	2. Whenever I breathe, it turns into a sigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Proof-read by Rinnenotsubasa

**0 0 41**

_Why did I even have this dream? It’s been so long._

Jeonghan turns over and switches on the lamp on his night stand. The warm light floods his eyesight, making him squint from the slight burn on his sensitive orbs.

It takes some time for him to make out that the hour hand on the clock is resting neatly at number four.

_I can’t go back to sleep anyway._

He sighs and starts getting up from the bed, limbs trembling to support his body. On the wall to his left, his own shadow is doing the same thing with his back bending forward, curved as if he is carrying an imaginary weight.

The sight reminds Jeonghan of Joshua having chastised him time and time again for not watching out for his own posture, saying that a bent back would be what Jeonghan was going to get if he kept slouching on the sofa.

He guesses Joshua was right after all.

Shaking his head, Jeonghan walks towards the bathroom. His own reflection on the mirror over the sink stares back at him with a pair of tired eyes.

Jeonghan is now around the same age as that old palm reader from his memory, with his forehead wrinkled and the space beneath his eyes hollow.

It’s hard to find the image of that gorgeous idol he once was. And it’s not because of the aging, no.

Jeonghan has always been aware that the exhaustion and distorted insecurity have eventually been showing on his physical appearance the longer they are harbored. At the same time, seeing the evidence of this in the mirror every day for years has also made him fall deeper in the rabbit hole he had dug himself.

It’s a vicious cycle that Jeonghan has never truly broken out from.

That is why he couldn’t and still can’t understand how Seungcheol always looked at him the same way no matter how many years had passed between them, like Jeonghan was still that teenage boy he made friends with in the green practice room.

Young, beautiful, and still had some love left for this world.

The small ticks from the clock placed on the shelf in front of him pulls him back to reality.

Jeonghan slowly proceeds with his morning routine then makes his way to the kitchen.

He spends more than an hour after that on preparing a traditional breakfast, something he has just started making recently. Steamed rice, a grilled mackerel, braised beef, a soybean paste stew and some kimchi. When done, all of the foods are carefully put into the insulated lunch boxes.

Rubbing his lower back that has been aching, Jeonghan goes to the living room, sits down and waits.

He used to hate waiting. The young Jeonghan was impatient and short-tempered. Then again, he used to sleep a lot too. But as he has to accept the fact the old people sleep less and less, he also realizes that there is not much he can do to fill up all the time he has other than waiting.

And so, Jeonghan is just sitting there on the sofa, doesn’t even bother to turn on the lights in the living room.

His eyes are closed, not because he is trying to go back to sleep, but because seeing how empty this house is makes him hard to breathe sometimes.

He opens his eyes again when the clock on the opposite wall reads 6:30 sharp.

A strange sense of satisfaction creeps up his mind at the accurate timing. From the light filtering through the curtains, he figures it is bright enough to go out.

Jeonghan goes back to the main bedroom to get change. He puts on a thick coat Joshua sent him from the US a long time ago, and a scarf since his throat hasn’t been well lately. He grabs the bag with the lunch boxes and some fruits inside and heads out.

The winter’s morning in Seoul has never been nice to him. He regrets not wearing gloves as the cold is prickling his skin like needles.

When Jeonghan was young, his mom always brought the gloves for him and nagged him to put them on. Growing up, he had his members handing him hot packs whenever they were filming outside in winter. He would never admit that sometimes he forgot the gloves on purpose.

But, old habits die hard. What seemed to be just a nonchalant trick of a kid who wanted to be taken care of, now has become a permanent fold on his brain. A throbbing reminder of what he no longer has.

Jeonghan’s phone rings when he’s already on the subway. He takes it out and squints at the name displaying on the screen before picking up.

“Hello?”

“Uncle Jeonghan, are you up? You’re visiting uncle Joshua today right? Do you need me to come over and pick you up? I’m free this morning.”

A smile splatters on Jeonghan’s face at the voice chirping on the other line. The owner of this voice is a woman in her late twenties, who is just like her name – Hyunae, and very much like her father.

“Uncle Jeonghan? Can I come over?”

Jeonghan snaps out of his thoughts when Hyunae calls him again. He can hear a faint sound of the keys clanking through the phone, so he clears his voice and speaks up.

“I’m already on the subway, Hyunae. I couldn’t sleep so I was up early.”

A small, disappointed _Oh, I see_ that Hyunae lets out makes Jeonghan chuckle. He looks up at the notice sign in his cabin and realizes there’s only two stops left until he has to get down.

“It’s been a while since you had a free Saturday morning. Are you sure you want to spend time with this old man rather than with your wife?” He teases her, voice light and lilting in a familiar way that sounds like he is talking to a friend.

“My wife understands. I’ll take her out for lunch after visiting uncle Joshua with you.” Hyunae laughs sheepishly, “It’s been a while since I last saw you two.”

“Thank you.” Jeonghan says, his tone soft and sincere. “But we still have plenty of time, Hyunae. Tell you what, how about you spend this whole morning with your wife, and then take me to see your dad this afternoon.”

“But–”

“I’m sure Shua misses you. But he will be fine for another week.” Jeonghan stands up from his seat and slowly walks to the exit. “My stop is here. See you this afternoon, Hyunae.”

“Okay, uncle Jeonghan.” Hyunae says defeatedly, knowing that there’s no room for her to protest once Jeonghan has made up his mind. “See you then.”

And with that, their call ends.

Jeonghan puts his phone back into his pocket and wraps his now free hand firmly around the handle next to the door. He steps down as fast as his body allows once the door opens, with his other hand still holding the bag.

He ambled out of the station and to a care home at the end of the road.

The staff at the reception recognizes Jeonghan right away. They all welcome him with a smile and let him in without a question.

He takes the elevator to the second floor and runs into the nurse in charge of Joshua in the hallway.

“Mr. Yoon, good morning! Mr. Hong just woke up earlier.” The nurse greets Jeonghan. On his hands is a note that is probably to keep track of Joshua’s condition. “Mr. Hong might be tired today. He hasn’t talked to me since he woke up.” 

“Is that so.” Jeonghan asks, but in a way that doesn’t sound like a question. His eyes downcast, like he’s thinking about something.

“It could be because of the weather. Mr. Hong doesn’t like it when it’s this cold.”

Knowing that the nurse is trying to ease his worries, Jeonghan nods and gives him a faint curl of his lips, “Yeah, it could be.”

As both of them reach Joshua’s room, Jeonghan asks for a moment alone with the man inside.

“Of course.” The nurse says before leaving, “If you need me, just press the button by his bed.”

And with that, Jeonghan is left alone outside Joshua’s room. His hand placed on the door handle clenches around the icy metal.

A bad feeling swirls at the pit of his stomach.

He knows that this is meant to happen, that all the medications in the world can only slow down the process but can never prevent Joshua’s condition from getting worse. The Joshua he used to know so well, whom he once lost then luckily had the chance to start over with, albeit a little late – that man is gradually and excruciatingly, slipping through his hands once again.

He knows all that.

Therefore, it only takes him a few more deep breaths to push the door open with a smile on his face.

“You’re not him.” Joshua, who hasn’t spoken a word since waking up, raises his voice as soon as Jeonghan steps into the room. His eyes narrow, a look that is somewhere between crestfallen and confused.

There is a glint in Jeonghan’s eyes at the apprehension of what Joshua’s words could imply.

“I’m sorry I’m not the one you’re waiting for, Shua.” Jeonghan walks towards Joshua’s bed and starts taking the lunch boxes from his bag and placing them on the table. “Let’s have breakfast. I made it just how you like it.”

Joshua doesn’t answer. In the silence that is enveloping the two of them, Jeonghan is afraid that even his breathing might be too loud. 

He thinks he knows what this is about. It’s tough, but he’s already prepared. So, he stops what he is doing to look at Joshua, waiting for the other to continue.

“No, I’m not–” Joshua suddenly retorts after a while. The slur in his voice that Jeonghan has been ignoring, now has become too obvious. “I’m not waiting for him.”

It’s a very young-Joshua's thing to do, sulking like this. Jeonghan cannot tell if this is because of Joshua’s condition, or if it’s like what they always say, that one’s old age is their second childhood.

“I’m not waiting for him.” Joshua repeats his own words. Somehow, it sounds more like to remind himself than to convince Jeonghan.

“He never shows up. I know that–” He turns his head to the dry and lifeless tree outside the window and keeps going, “–that he’s avoiding us. But I couldn’t help but get my hopes up whenever he says _maybe next time._ ”

Jeonghan’s heart drops at what he’s heard, dread pooling thick and dark in his pupils.

A minute ago, he thought that Joshua was talking about Seungcheol. Even though Joshua hasn't mentioned anything about Seungcheol for so long, Jeonghan is always kept on edge by the possibility that one day Joshua would.

But now. Now he's afraid that it isn't Seungcheol that the man on the bed is talking about.

He wants to see Joshua’s expression as if it could confirm his thoughts, yet it’s difficult when the younger man is not facing him. Only Joshua’s voice, heavy with the time missed between the three of them, is the clue Jeonghan can have.

“But I… I’m tired of waiting for him. The other person told me to hold on a little longer, but I’m tired. I don’t know how he can be so patient, that person, he–”

Joshua makes a sudden turn and meets Jeonghan’s eyes. His brown orbs are glassy and his lips tremble. He has that frantic look as if he has just dropped something important to him but can’t recall where he dropped it.

“What’s his name, the other person? I forgot his name. What is it?”

“Seungcheol.” Jeonghan never thought it was so hard to answer such a simple question. Still, the moment he realizes the whole situation, there are sharp claws scraping his throat at every word he says. “His name is Choi Seungcheol.”

“Seungcheol. That’s right.” Joshua mumbles to himself, paying no mind about Jeonghan’s state. He looks down the blanket covering his lower body, and chants the name he’s just been reminded.

Seconds later, Joshua looks back up. Jeonghan takes this opportunity to take Joshua’s hands from clenching on the blanket and into his palms. The older squeezes softly on the cold and rigid fists, even though his own hands are not any warmer.

However, none of that can touch Joshua. The man is still deeply lost in his world, babbling out the words which run into one another, as lost as their owner is. 

“I feel bad... I don’t know if I can keep waiting.”

“Seungcheol said he wouldn’t force me, that he would... understand if I gave up.”

“But I know I’m failing him.”

“Oh... and the guy I was talking about, the guy we are waiting for. He–”

“He’s regretting it.” Jeonghan interrupts. He can’t bear this any longer. If Joshua was conscious enough to spare a glance at him, he would notice that the expression on Jeonghan's face is like a felon who has accepted his sentence.

“That guy,” Jeonghan gulps, face contorted, “is spending the rest of his life regretting what he’s done.”

The look on Joshua's face after hearing this isn’t something Jeonghan expects. Aside from the surprise, there is something else. It’s not the satisfaction when knowing a person who has wronged you is now suffering. Instead, it was a glimpse of distress, and something that says Joshua would never have the heart to want this to happen.

But that only wrecks Jeonghan even more.

“How do you know?” Joshua asks, brows furrowed like he’s doubting it. “How do you know that he’s regretting it? Do you know him?”

And that is the last straw.

Jeonghan’s forehead drops on his hands that have been holding Joshua’s, shoulders shaking as he replies.

“I do, I know him very well.”

**48 10 13**

It didn’t start out like most people think it did.

They were all trainees, competing for a slot to debut in the company’s new boygroup. They were still teenagers, yes. But the competition was as real as the laugh they shared together during their short breaks.

Jeonghan was close to Joshua the most, not because he didn’t feel intimidated by Joshua, but because the American boy didn’t feel intimidated by him.

Jeonghan was very sensitive about how people were viewing him. And he could tell that to most other trainees, he was a threat. He might not be born a performer like Seungkwan or Chan, but he has the face and was quick to pick up whatever their coaches threw at him.

Thus, Jeonghan totally understood why the boys didn’t warm up to him easily. He learned to accept the wary looks he got from some of them, and didn’t ask when they left him out to stay up late for some extra practice.

But Joshua. Sweet, sweet Hong Jisoo.

The boy who got into the company only weeks before him and was still very confused with the hierarchy system and formal language in Korea. The boy who came all the way from the U.S. with a dream that seemed to not be weighing down on his shoulders but uplifting in his heart instead.

Jeonghan latched onto Joshua like a newborn chicken to the first creature it opened its eyes to. And for a while, it felt like it was two of them against the world.

But other trainees soon discovered the same nice things about the American boy that Jeonghan once was attracted to. The boys started getting closer to Joshua, and as a result, to Jeonghan as well. The day when he was first offered to be helped with the choreography by Soonyoung, he thought that Joshua was really his lucky charm.

Jeonghan got out of his shelf little by little. He still felt the wary looks thrown his way occasionally, but they no longer bothered him as much. As time passed and he spoke to more and more trainees in the company, he realized that the feeling of being perceived as a threat couldn’t really go away. At least not until the official line-up for the boygroup was finalized.

By that time, Jeonghan had talked to almost all the trainees in the line-up except for one.

The leader. Choi Seungcheol.

Even before the official announcement, as long as Jeonghan had been there, Seungcheol was already the leader of their group of trainees. He was the eldest and the most experienced among all of them so Jeonghan thought it was only natural that the position fell onto his hands.

Seungcheol always tried his best. He checked up on everyone when he had the time, making sure each person had what they needed. A true leader figure.

But the thing was, he did that to all the members except Jeonghan. And it ticked Jeonghan off, not only because Seungcheol didn’t talk to him, but also due to the way Seungcheol looked at him like he – Yoon Jeonghan – was the reason why.

Jeonghan had tried to not let that get to him, taking it as Seungcheol might not have liked him very much. It was alright. He couldn’t be liked by everyone. Plus, he already had Joshua who cared for him.

He kept telling himself that. But there were still times when he watched how Seungcheol chatted other members up and wished it had been him whom Seungcheol talked to in such a protective tone.

Months later, when they had already become friends (and honestly, the process of how it came to be is very vague in Jeonghan’s mind), Jeonghan finally worked up the courage to ask Seungcheol about what had bothered him for the longest time.

To which Seungcheol answered with a nervous grin, that he thought Jeonghan didn’t like him.

Seungcheol proceeded to tell Jeonghan about the invisible walls he had seen around Jeonghan when the younger looked at him, and that one time he got shunned away by Jeonghan for checking up on him. Seungcheol said it was after Jeonghan’s first evaluation, but Jeonghan couldn’t recall the encounter. All he remembered was the disappointment and distress as he saw everybody else’s performances, wondering how in the hell he was gonna catch up with them.

Jeonghan knew other trainees saw him as a threat, but he didn’t know that it was the same the other way around. Yet, Seungcheol had already seen right through him even before Jeonghan could. And it was a big shock to Jeonghan, even more shocking when he found out Seungcheol used to check up on him through Joshua, and that he tried to be more friendly and caring to others, hoping that Jeonghan would notice and let down the walls surrounding him someday.

Jeonghan had always been a sensitive one. 

But it was that moment when Jeonghan realized that Seungcheol was no less, if not more, sensitive than him.

**0 0 41**

Hyunae picks him up outside the care home at three.

“How is uncle Joshua doing?” She asks as Jeonghan is fastening his seatbelt on the passenger’s seat.

“Not very well.” Jeonghan replies.

He tells Hyunae about the breakfast that takes Joshua until noon to be able to finish, about how other parts of his body is just like his brain, forgetting how to function sometimes. And then his heart stops at being reminded that one day Joshua will eventually forget how to breathe, too.

They fall into silence for a while after Jeonghan spoke. Hyunae’s hand finds his. Her long, pretty fingers squeeze and release repetitively around his gnarled fist in a comforting rhythm.

Looking forwards through the windshield of the unmoving car, they both know where this was going. They have never talked about it, because it was such an inevitable outcome that all words of comfort seem to lose their meaning.

Two minutes. That is the most generous amount of time Jeonghan allows himself to sit like this. But as he counts to ninety-one, he feels a tug on his hand. He lifts his gaze up to find Hyunae looking at him.

“Uncle, should we go?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

They drive even further away from the city, stopping at a flower shop along the road for Jeonghan to pick up a bouquet of red and white roses. The combination looks so cheesy it makes Jeonghan frown every time, but when the florist hands the bouquet over, he holds it in his arms with utmost care.

“Dad was such a sap.” Hyunae snorts, glancing at the flower resting on Jeonghan’s laps on the passenger’s seat. “Did I tell you? Dad bought the same red and white rose bouquet for me on my first date and insisted that it wasn’t a proper date if I didn’t give my girlfriend flowers.”

“You did. Several times.” Jeonghan nods, fondness taking over his expression and releasing those eyebrows that have been knitted together since they leave the care home.

“I know.” Hyunae replies with a cheeky grin. “I just wanted to tell you that story again.”

“You’re just like your dad.” Jeonghan commented.

At that, Hyunae’s smile faded from her face. It’s another moment of silence until she speaks up again.

“You told me that, too.” With her eyes still soft, she takes a brief look at the uncle that she used to hate his guts when she was little, and then turns back to the road. “Several times.”

The car stops at a grand wrought iron gate painted in white and gold.

They step down and walk inside along the path paved with red bricks and lined with oak trees. When Jeonghan chose this place, in his head there was only the image of Seungcheol who was completely in awe of the giant oaks in a park they visited together with Joshua during one of their tour stops in Europe.

He and Hyunae strolled through the trees, through hundreds of large, white stone boards on the ground, until they arrive in front of the one that has a marigold placed next to it.

“Must be Hansol. He was back in Seoul yesterday.” Jeonghan says while crouching to put his roses down.

He lets his fingers trace along the letters carved on the cold surface, still fairly new since it’s only been a few years.

“Hyunae and I came to see you.”

As Jeonghan speaks, his voice has the calmness of someone who has done this a million times, and yet, his face muscles are tight and his fingers can’t help quivering. 

Even more so when he calls out the name written under his touch.

“Seungcheol-ah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name “Hyunae” means “loving and wise”
> 
> ***  
> There goes the first chapter. Please tell me what you think so far :))))


	3. On the paths that we took

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To help make the timeline in the story less confusing (idk if you will find it confusing, maybe i worry too much :))), I decided to to give out a hint. 
> 
> Skip the text below if you don't need it (well I still think it's more fun figuring it out on your own but you can comeback for this hint anytime :))
> 
> The number chain at the beginning of each "section" is in the format: yy mm dd. It's the countdown from that section to the Epilogue, starting from the day 10yo Jeonghan recieved the prophecy at the temple (Prologue).

**46 7 22**

Their group wasn’t always loud.

When they first debuted, having their own waiting room at music shows was the privilege they could only dream of. So when they had to share a small space with other rookies, the thirteen boys must try their best to keep quiet.

“Hey, has anyone seen my blue undies? I haven’t seen them for days now, not even in our laundry baskets.” Mingyu whispered when they were sitting in a circle before the recording of their first comeback.

“Oh, that’s because Seungkwan took them by mistake and was too embarrassed to give them back to you directly.” Soonyoung said casually while fixing his headset. His voice was a bit loud, so Jihoon shushed him off. No one needed to overhear the rookies who took each other’s underwear.

“I told you to not tell anyone.” Seungkwan gritted his teeth, feeling so betrayed that he reached out to pinch Soonyoung’s arm.

The older pouted and apologized, but that didn’t seem to calm Seungkwan down anytime soon (and the fact that all the members are laughing at them didn’t help, either).

Junhui, who were sitting opposite Seungkwan, giggled. “You shouldn’t have trusted Hoshi to keep your secret. He has parted lips.”

The statement made everyone turn to look at Junhui in confusion.

“What do his lips have to do with this?” Hansol chimed in, with that lilting tone he always had when he was questioning something.

Junhui got flustered by the amount of attention from all the members. He had both hands cover the lower half of his face and started speaking so fast that his words seemed to stick to one another.

“Well, people whose lips part even at natural state can’t keep a secret.” He then jerked back and waved his palms frantically. “I just heard that from my grandma, she used to read faces for people. I don’t think it’s always true, though.”

Junhui’s ears had gone bright red when he finished talking. His pair of almond eyes glanced around at everyone nervously, watching their reaction.

“I mean, it’s true with Hoshi and his lips, apparently.” Seungkwan shrugged, obviously still bitter about being exposed by the leader of the Performance Team.

“Yeah, I kinda have nothing to defend myself about this.” Soonyoung admitted defeat, and everybody laughed.

Junhui seemed much more relaxed at the boys’ reactions. Next to him, Minghao patted his back while continuing the subject.

“I got my face read once years ago back in China.” Minghao started, and everyone silenced to listen, intrigued by the topic. “I wouldn’t say you should believe in those things too much, but some of them are pretty accurate.”

“Don’t they do this thing with the palms?” Chan asked, eyes widened with curiosity. 

“Yeah,” Jun nodded. “My grandma also did palm reading.”

After that, a lot of questions were thrown at Junhui as everyone got more and more excited. The poor boy got so embarrassed but still patiently answered his friends.

At some point, Seungcheol leaned towards Junhui and eagerly stretched out his hand, “Can you see mine?”

The Chinese boy flinched in surprise and shook his head, “No, I’m not an expert or anything. The things I told you guys are what I heard when I lived with my grandma, that is if I still remember them correctly.”

“It’s fine.” Seungcheol insisted, not lowering his hand. “It’s just for fun, I won’t take it to heart.”

Jun hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke in his tiny voice. “Okay… But I’m gonna need your left hand, not right.”

Seungcheol beamed in satisfaction, switched his hand then happily waited while Junhui examined his palm.

Jun’s eyebrows knitted together as he pointed to the mole on Seungcheol’s palm. “I know this mole; a cousin of mine has one on the same position.”

“Yeah?” Seungcheol pressed.

Not only him, but the boys were all ears for what Jun was gonna say. Anticipation was evident in their eyes, making Jun blush harder.

“It means that you’re very affectionate and sincere. Like… uh…”

“Like he’s a person who’s full of love? He loves with all of his heart, that kinda thing?” Joshua prompted, and Jun thanked him for the help while nodding.

“That’s actually accurate.” Jihoon commented and some members hummed in agreement.

“You guys think so?” Seungcheol grinned, chin tilting up. “I’m sorta aware of that myself.”

“That you’re hopelessly romantic and cheesy? Yeah, we already know.” Mingyu said with a mocking tone, earning a slap on his shoulder from the leader.

“Don’t you have a mole on your nape, too?” Jun suddenly asked, and Seungcheol was more than willing to turn around for the other to look at the said mole, “Yeah, right here.”

The Chinese boy worried his bottom lips between his teeth before speaking up again, “Um… I could be wrong, but this one says similar things. That you love deeply and unconditionally, as if you are indebted.” 

“Myungho and I also have a mole on the back of our necks. Are we the same?” Wonwoo asked, standing up from his seat on the other side of the circle to show Jun his mole.

It was Minghao who waved his hands and answered, “No, our moles have different placement. An inch away and a mole can hold a completely different meaning.”

At that, the whole group broke out with a long “oh” and continued talking in excitement, looking for moles or any feature on their bodies and Jun might know the meanings of.

Despite the discussion getting more roused up, there was one person who stayed out of it since the beginning.

Jeonghan crossed his arms in front of his chest, fists clenched tight. He could feel the skin between his fingers clammy with each minute of the conversation going by, hoping that no one would bring him up.

He felt a nudge on his arm.

Seungcheol, who is now content and happily back at his seat, leaned to whisper in his ears, “Jeonghan, you should let Jun see your palm. I’m curious about what he’s gotta say about you.”

Jeonghan’s body slightly jerked back in defense, but he quickly covered it with a stiff smile as he shot back, “Probably something awesome. What else?”

Before Seungcheol could make any remark, Jeonghan stood up and walked towards the exit.

“Where are you going?” He heard Joshua called for him from behind.

“Toilet.” Jeonghan said without looking back.

“Come back soon! Our turn is in 10 minutes.” Seungcheol told him before going back to chatting with the members.

To that, Jeonghan didn't reply.

**0 0 38**

Jeonghan leans on the door, watching his brothers talking and laughing inside.

They are gathering at one of the restaurants owned by Mingyu’s son. Chan called to invite all of them a few days ago and said that it would be his treat. Except for Minghao who is in Shanghai, Joshua and Seungcheol, everyone is already here.

Wonwoo is the first to notice Jeonghan’s arrival and waves at him from his seat. “Hyung, we’ve been waiting for you.”

At Wonwoo’s call, everyone turns to the entrance and greets Jeonghan as the oldest man walks towards the table.

Soonyoung pulls out the empty chair next to him for Jeonghan and asks about his day. The younger man in his early old age is the spitting image of his father, which is nothing to be surprised by, but still very amusing when Jeonghan thinks about it.

They spend some time catching up with one another before Chan stands up from his seat and declares the reason why he’s having everyone here today.

“I’m moving to Shanghai next week.” The youngest man of their group speaks up. His lips curl into a proud smile, and the glint from his eyes is as youthful as when he was still Dino of SEVENTEEN.

“Our label in China is undergoing some transitions so I figured Myungho would appreciate some help. Chan volunteered.” Jihoon explains, then makes everyone cackle with his impression of Chan bursting in his office the other day asking if he could move to their branch in Shanghai.

“Wow, you guys are still going at it, huh?” Seungkwan muses, being the one who has just retired last year. “I bet your subordinates are itching to see you step down.”

Chan rolls his eyes and gives Seungkwan a glare that holds no bite. “Enthusiasm is virtue, hyung. Plus, it’s not like Jihoon has any intention to retire either, and he’s older than me.”

Jihoon raises his glass of juice at Chan and the two toast for that.

“Should we make a bet on who’s gonna be the last man standing?” Wonwoo claps his hands together, looking around the table. “Lee Jihoon, Seo Myungho or Lee Jung Chan? Gentlemen, please place your bets and give your reasoning before doing so.”

“I’ll bet my whole souvenir collection on Myungho. That man is resilient.” Hansol holds up his hand then quickly pulls out his phone to video call Minghao so the latter can witness this too.

Minghao looks very unimpressed when he picks up, “Are you guys doing some silly bet again?”

“Myungho!”, Mingyu cries out while taking the phone from Hansol’s hand to talk to his best friend. “We’re talking about who will be the last to retire.”

“Vernon just bet his souvenir collection on you.” Seokmin chirps in.

Minghao clicks his tongue, “You’d better start packing your souvenirs to send me, Vernon. There’s no way Chan would miss a chance to have his name written in history as the last active member of SEVENTEEN.”

“I think Myungho just cancelled the bet because everyone will lay money on Chan now.” Jun remarks and all the men burst out laughing in agreement.

They still joke around like when they were young and naïve.

47 years since their debut. 30 years after they announced their disbandment.

Some of them chose to work together in the entertainment industry. The others had picked different career paths to go.

Jihoon is still the main producer of the music label he established with Bumzu – Universe Factory. He became the biggest stakeholder after Seungcheol left him his shares in his testament.

Minghao is the branch director in China, managing his own local fashion brand on the side. Hansol went back and forth between their office in Seoul and New York, but mostly he just traveled around the world and wrote music.

Soonyoung was a famous choreographer with his own dance studio, with Chan as a freelancer working for both him and Jihoon.

Wonwoo and Mingyu took their chances in videography and visual art. Seungkwan became a national host and comedian, while Seokmin specialized in musical theater.

Joshua owned a restaurant chain in the US, and Jun opened his Chinese one in Korea.

Jeonghan himself did really well in the real estate world.

From a one big family, they spread out, building their own.

But whenever they have the chance to sit down together, it was as if the flow of time couldn’t wash away their sincerity, all of the ups and downs couldn’t taint the part of their hearts that were saved for each other.

For the name “SEVENTEEN”.

They call it a night when Mingyu falls asleep in the middle of their talk.

Seokmin’s daughter comes to pick her dad up and offers to give Jeonghan a ride home.

That’s how Jeonghan finds himself at the back seats with Seokmin, complaining that the winter this year is so cold it’s almost unbearable.

“Couldn’t be colder than the night we perform a mashup of the Aju NICE in those black and red plaid pants.” Seokmin laughs at Jeonghan’s whining. The crinkles around his eyes only makes him look more cheerful despite his age.

Jeonghan’s mind drifts back to that night when everyone shuddered in their stage outfits, no matter how many heat packs they had stuck on their bodies. They were waiting for the MC to call their group’s name in the hope that dancing would warm them up a bit.

Jeonghan really thought he was about to die when they had to line up on stage for the ending. All the heat produced during their performance had already left his body.

The members stayed close to each other, arms intertwined, trying to not shake too obviously. Seungcheol was on his left, one elbow hooked around his and the other one around Joshua.

When the stage lights were turned back on, everyone released whoever they were holding onto to stand up straight. But Seungcheol didn’t let go of him and Joshua; the warmth of his arm was still there, tying the three of them together.

The oldest’s hands rubbed up and down on his and Joshua’s upper arms, trying to get some heat from the friction. When Jeonghan turned to look at him, Seungcheol’s quivering lips morphed into a bright smile.

And Jeonghan smiled back, too.

There was fog coming out of their mouths and they could barely feel their faces, yet Jeonghan at that moment didn’t mind as much.

He thinks, as he’s now sitting in Seokmin’s car and watching the memory pass him by outside the window glass, that there is no way that night was any colder than tonight.

So he tells Seokmin just that.

They then change the subject and talk some more before the car stops outside Jeonghan’s house. The older male thanks Seokmin and his daughter and bids them goodbye.

As Jeonghan steps outside and emerges himself in the crisp air, he looks up into the dark, starless sky. For a split second, the past and present overlaps on his mind, and Jeonghan doesn’t even know which night it is tonight.

The space underneath his eyes suddenly feels so cold as if it was wet. Jeonghan wipes it with the back of his hand, dazed when such coldness keeps spreading on his cheekbones.

“Hyung, it’s snowing.”

Seokmin’s call reminds him that the younger one hasn't left yet. Jeonghan looks down on the back of his hand which he just wiped his face with. It’s dampened with the melted snow.

“Remember to take the flower pot inside with you.” Seokmin keeps urging him through the rolled down window. “Hurry up and go inside. The snow is getting heavier.”

Releasing the breath that has been stuck in his throat, Jeonghan tells Seokmin to go home and rest.

Before leaving, Seokmin adds, “Hyung, you were right, tonight is definitely colder. I didn’t think it snowed that year.”

At that, Jeonghan’s face stiffens. He looks distantly in the direction that Seokmin’s car is leaving for a moment, then finally begins walking through the yard in front of his house.

The heavy snow paints his weak eyesight white.

Jeonghan feels as if there is a tug on his elbows, as if when he turns around, he can find Seungcheol and Joshua behind him. They are still in those plaid pants and suspenders from the show, grinning from ear to ear as they show him the tiny snowflakes on their palms.

“Look, Jeonghan. It started to snow just now.” He can hear Seungcheol’s giggles.

Everyone else has gone into the building of their dorms. The trio are the last ones in lines. Joshua places his finger on his lips when he pulls Jeonghan into the endless curtains of icy dust.

And Jeonghan just lets him.

The pain when his foot hits the wooden stairs shakes Jeonghan out of his reverie.

He glances up and sees the flower pot that Seokmin has mentioned sitting on the porch. It is covered with a frost blanket that he got from Seokmin’s wife. He picks the plant up and holds it close to his chest with one hand and uses the other to open the door with his fingerprints.

Jeonghan steps inside and spares one last look at the swirling white flakes out there. When he squints into the colorless space, he feels like he can catch three figures messing around under the heavy snowfalls.

He darts his eyes away and then closes the door shut, blocking the faint sound of laughter coming from his memory.

_Seokmin was wrong_ , Jeonghan thinks to himself.

It did snow that day.

**10 6 7**

It seemed so out of the blue when Seungcheol asked them to move in with him.

They were drinking in an expensive lounge on the rooftop of the hotel that Jeonghan owned. Seungcheol was still in his suit and tie, coming here straight from his office.

Jeonghan at first thought it was a joke. But Seungcheol’s eyes were crystal clear when they were fixed on him and Joshua, despite his cheeks having been colored red by the alcohol.

Jeonghan saw the glass of wine in Joshua’s hand shake when the American said yes. A drop of the crimson liquid fell off the rim of the glass and onto Jeonghan’s heart.

He heard himself saying yes as well.

They left it at that, finished their drinks and went back to their separate home. They didn’t talk about where or when they were going to live together. No one dared to push the subject further.

The conversation ended as spontaneously as it began.

Yet, when Seungcheol took all of them to a large one-story house in a luxury and carefully guarded neighborhood, Jeonghan realized that, at least to Seungcheol, none of this was out of the blue, nor spontaneous in any way.

The house was beautiful with an open floor plan and thoroughly furnished. It had a half story with an indoor balcony, on which there was a large, cushiony sofa facing the enormous glass window on the roof.

Seungcheol scratched his neck in embarrassment as he explained how he wanted it to be a star gazing spot, but belatedly remembered that the city sky was too polluted for any star to shine through.

When Jeonghan wanted to know when he bought this house, Seungcheol told him it was three years ago.

They fell into silence after that.

Four years ago, Joshua’s boyfriend passed away in an accident, not long after the 13th anniversary of their relationship.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol took a flight from the other side of the globe to be at the funeral. The sight of Joshua burst out in tears when hearing him and Seungcheol call his name was still vivid on Jeonghan’s mind.

That day, they stayed up all night in Joshua’s living room, listening as the American told them how much of a good person the man in the funeral portrait was.

A year later, Joshua packed his life in two suitcases and moved back to Seoul from the States.

“How did you know that we would agree to move in? What if we didn’t?”

Jeonghan heard Joshua asking. From where Jeonghan stood, he could see the American’s fists. The blood vessels almost popped out of the thin and wrinkled skin as they clenched under his sleeves.

Seungcheol didn’t answer but looked at his two friends with a gentle curl of the lips.

And Jeonghan already knew that the house would have still been here, even if he and Joshua had said no. Even if Seungcheol hadn’t mentioned anything to them in the first place.

Even if all three of them hadn’t had the courage to all be together again in this life.

Now they were 57, standing in a house that used to exist only in their wildest dreams when they were younger. Jeonghan couldn’t help but think that the curve drawn between them was so large; but fortunately before their lives ended, they still managed to find their way back to one another.

The day they officially moved into this house, Jeonghan had thought that, maybe, this was being complete felt like. And from the way Joshua and Seungcheol’s faces lit up in hope and expectation, Jeonghan was sure that the feeling was mutual.

But before soon, Jeonghan realized that they were all too naïve.

For almost the first 6 months living together, they were just each other’s housemate. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jeonghan could count on one hand the times all three of them actually sat down and had a decent meal. At least before moving in, they used to meet up once or twice every month.

They had their own rooms. Seungcheol’s was the most spacious one as it was his bedroom and his study combined. The oldest always left the house before the other two woke up, and came home just before they went to bed. Every time they asked, Seungcheol told them he had dinner at work. Even on the weekends, Seungcheol locked himself in his room working.

Jeonghan was still working as well, while Joshua had retired, which means the two were supposed to have the evenings and days off to spend time together. But somehow it was awkward for them to do so without Seungcheol there.

Or maybe it was just an excuse.

Jeonghan knew very well, that all of this was the result of many years they had been apart.

The people they spent their lives with, the places they had been, all of those had permanently imprinted on their personalities, shaping them into someone perhaps even their younger self wouldn’t have expected to become.

Who they were now were just strangers sharing the same roof.

They no longer knew how to live with each other anymore.

Jeonghan wished they could have done something to change the situation sooner, before they actually had to

That was the only thought running through his mind when he saw Seungcheol collapsing by the older’s work desk.

It was a night like one of those scenes in movies.

The summer storm was raging outside and the sound of the rain splashed on the glass windows were so loud it kept Jeonghan from his sleep. His throat felt dry so he left the bed and went out into the living room for a glass of water.

He glanced to the other side of the house, where Seungcheol’s room was. The door made out of thick, dark wood was closed tightly; there were no gaps for any stream of light to squeeze through. That was, if there had been any light inside that room to begin with.

Ever since this morning, whenever Jeonghan looked at the direction of Seungcheol’s room, the closed door stared back at him mockingly. Jeonghan couldn’t stop himself from wondering – what if one day Seungcheol decided to not come home anymore?

He doubted that he and Joshua would know until a whole day later.

A chill ran up his spine at such thought. 

As if to prove that his worry was for nothing, a faint thump came from Seungcheol’s room and reached Jeonghan’s ears. However, the latter didn’t even get the chance to let out a sigh of relief before a chain of loud noises continued to pierce through the incessant sound of the rain, ending with a heavy thud of a human body hitting the ground.

Jeonghan felt like his heart was being pulled from his chest down to his stomach as he rushed to Seungcheol’s room, didn’t think twice before pushing the door open.

He was met with the sight of Seungcheol curling on the ground, blood drained from his face. Jeonghan told himself not to panic, yet his legs somehow rooted to their places, refusing to move as he wanted them to.

He barely realized Joshua passing him by at the threshold. Apparently, the noises were loud enough to wake the younger up.

Joshua sprinted through the books and papers scattered on the floor and knelt down by Seungcheol. Jeonghan watched Joshua gently maneuver the oldest man’s body until Seungcheol was lying on his back with his legs raised and rested on Joshua’s shoulder.

Not only until he went to get a clean towel under Joshua’s instruction did Jeonghan’s senses come back to him. The first thing he could register, was the self-hatred bubbling in his guts.

Jeonghan had never felt so angry with himself, for being too much of a coward to burst through this door even once all this time.

Seungcheol had already gained consciousness by the time Jeonghan was wiping the cold sweat off his face and neck. When the oldest man could move and talk normally, he was forced to go to bed by his friends.

There was no reprimand, no interrogation, just the painful and worried looks in their eyes were enough to kill all of Seungcheol’s attempts to protest.

It was Jeonghan who started it, crawling onto Seungcheol’s bed instead of going back to his own room. Seconds later, Joshua followed suit.

In complete darkness, Jeonghan could hear Seungcheol’s breathing stopped momentarily then continued in a suppressed, shallow manner, until it gradually deepened as the man finally fell into his slumber, squeezing up between him and Joshua. 

They were sharing the same bed, but Jeonghan finally realized they still had a long, long way to walk before reaching one another. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: This story may contain inaccurate knowledge about face and palm reading. Like Jun, I'm no expert in this field, I just heard about it a lot from people who are, so PLEASE take it with a grain of salt! Some details (not in this chapter but in the Prologue) were exaggerated for the sake of the plot. 
> 
> Anw, this is the first (and prolly last) non-AU + future I've ever written. I know that the tags might have put a lot of you off, so to those who have been following this fic, thank you so so much for bearing with me through this unpleasant ride. Please leave a comment, I would love to know what you think!


End file.
